


The Longest Journey

by helsinkibaby



Category: CSI
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-21
Updated: 2002-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When two CSIs stop talking, two others hatch a plan…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Default Chapter

The mid-afternoon sun was high in the sky as Catherine straightened up from the dresser in the bedroom, having finally lifted the last print that she'd found on the crime scene. She stretched, arching her back, fighting back a groan as her aching muscles told her exactly how long she'd been crouching, and how long before that it had been since she'd had any sleep, or even any relaxation. She didn't even want to look in the mirror, afraid of the depth of dark shadows she no doubt had underneath her eyes, visible even through her make-up. It had been a long shift.

It had been a long few months.

"You about done?" The voice of her partner had her jumping and turning, giving him a quick smile as he frowned at her reaction.

"Just finished," she reported, popping her findings into her case, getting ready to leave. "Plenty of nice fingerprints for Sara to test."

The second the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to bite her tongue off. Warrick didn't say anything, just shrugged, but a man who gave definition to the word laconic wouldn't have reacted with words anyway. Catherine had long since trained herself to pick up the smaller signs with which to gauge his reaction, and from the slight widening, then shadowing of his eyes, and the way he instantly looked down and away and changed the subject, she'd known that she'd said the wrong thing.

"Many different sets?" he asked, eyeing the bedroom furnishings with interest, as if he could count them all right then and there.

"At least a dozen," Catherine said, and his lips pursed into a rueful grimace, probably wondering, as she had, where they'd all come from. "The mom said she was out of town last week…two teenaged kids in the house, what do you think the odds are that there was a party here?"

A snort of something that might have been amusement passed his lips, but otherwise, Warrick's face didn't change. "No bet here," he murmured.

"Got that right." Catherine picked up the bag and they began to make their way down the stairs. "Which means we've got to print all the kids' friends, if they give us anything at all, then try to see if there's any unaccounted for…" Sara was going to love them for this, she almost said, but she cut herself off just in time, instead going straight to the passenger door of the car, letting him drive them back to the lab in near silence.

"I'll get these to the lab," she told him, as they stood in the parking lot. "Then, I'm going to head home, catch some sleep, and start cooking something for Lindsey before I pick her up from school. What about you?"

Warrick glanced at his watch, rolling his eyes when he saw how much overtime they'd racked up already, all over what was supposed to be a simple breaking and entering that they'd caught right at the tail end of the shift. "Same," he said. "I'll drop the evidence off at the lab if you want to go straight home though."

"That'd be great Warrick. Thank you." Catherine smiled at him, pleased at his thoughtfulness, opening her mouth to say something else. Whatever it was though, was interrupted by the chirp of her cellphone. She gave Warrick an apologetic grin, holding up one hand as she answered it. "Hello? Yes, this is she…what? Is she ok? Yes, I'll be right there. Thank you."

When she hung up the phone, Warrick was looking at her, concern written all over his face. "Everything ok?"

"That was Lindsey's school," Catherine explained. "She's been sick, they need me to go pick her up…"

"Go." Warrick's voice was firm. "I was going to take the evidence in anyway, I'll tell Gris where you are, and that you might be late tonight."

He was reaching to take the bag from her shoulder, and she checked her watch, eyes widening as she realised what time it was, smacking her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Oh no…"

"What?" Warrick was still all concern, shouldering the evidence kit easily.

"I forgot, I can't go straight home, I said that I'd collect Sara…" She turned huge eyes up to him, begging, pleading. "Warrick, can you do it for me? Please? I wouldn't ask, but I've got to get to Lindsey…" She was already backing away from him, not taking no for an answer, not even when she saw his eyes widen, his mouth open. "Oh, Warrick, thanks so much…"

He was still trying to formulate a response when she turned her back and all but sprinted to her car without looking back. She backed out of her space quickly, driving away from the lab, stopping only when she was a couple of miles away, pulling in off the road, and dialling a number on her cell-phone. "It's me," she said when the person at the other end picked up.

"Did he go for it?" Grissom's voice was curious.

Catherine leaned back in her seat, allowing herself a satisfied chuckle. "Oh, he went for it all right. I think I missed my calling."

"You would have convinced me," he allowed, and Catherine could almost see his little smile, his raised eyebrow when he spoke.

"You took care of things at your end?" she asked, because it'd be just like Grissom to get distracted and forget.

"Between Nicky and myself, we managed to get the word around. If Warrick does try to palm this off on anyone, they're all going to have plans."

"Good."

There was a pause before Grissom spoke again, and when he did, his voice was doubtful. "Are you sure this is necessary Catherine? It's only been two weeks…"

She'd heard this from him before, and it didn't cut any ice with her this time either. "It's been two weeks since she came back to work Grissom. How long was it before that?" she pointed out.

"Yeah." The word was an un-Grissomlike sigh.

"Gris, they can't go on like this," she told him. "Sooner or later, something has to give."

Grissom's voice was quiet, and had her heart sinking like a rock. "That's what I'm afraid of."

 __

…two weeks ago…

Sara Sidle was laughing as she and Nick Stokes moved through the halls of the CSI lab. Not that they were moving too quickly; after all, they could only move a couple of feet at a time, for no sooner had one well-wisher departed than another one came up to take their place. Sara's cheeks were pink from embarrassment and sore from smiling at people, and she didn't miss the fact that Nick was taking much delight in her discomfort. "Shut up," she muttered when she caught his eye, and he just shook his head, giving her his best "Aw-shucks Ma'am" smile.

"It's like I keep telling you Sara," he told her. "Nothing improves your company like the lack of it. Bet you never realised you were so popular."

"You can sing that one," she muttered in reply, fixing a smile to her face as David Phillips walked by them, changing course when he caught a glimpse of Sara.

"You're back!" he beamed, looking from one to the other.

"Can't get anything by you guys, can I?" Sara quipped, her smile, fixed or not, taking any sting out of her words.

"She's just cranky because she'd rather be at home watching crappy chat shows," Nick deadpanned, nodding conspiratorially at David.

"I would not," Sara protested, reaching over to smack him, a move that Nick dodged easily. She settled for narrowing her eyes and mock glaring at him, which only served to increase his mirth. She turned back to David, rolling her eyes. "You seen Grissom?"

David nodded. "Break room," was all he said, moving past them. "I'll see you later?"

"Sure, I'll be around," Sara replied, moving off in the direction of the break room, pausing when she realised that Nick was chuckling to himself. "What?"

"Just wondering if David is counting that as a date," he replied, and she opened her mouth, then thought better of replying, which of course, only gave Nick more impetus to tease her. "I mean, come on…the guy's got a serious thing for you. He practically pined the whole time you were out…"

Sara shook her head, sighing, good mood suddenly dissipating like mist. "Nice to know someone missed me," she muttered, and a shadow flitted across Nick's face.

"Sara-" he began, but she cut him off, moving away from him.

"Let's find Grissom. Get this shift started."

Well aware of how immovable Sara could be when she had her mind made up against something, Nick had no choice but to follow her to the break room where, ever the gentleman, he held open the door for her, entering behind her.

She'd no sooner entered the room than a chorus of Kool and the Gang's _Celebration_ began to blare, and her eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight before her. Greg Sanders beside a boom box in a loud multi-coloured shirt wasn't unusual, but the party hat on his head certainly was a new addition. Beside him, Catherine stood, similarly hatted, with Lindsey, streamers around her neck, dancing to the music beside her. But the sight of her boss, Gil Grissom, with both hat on head and streamers around his neck, was one that she'd never forget, and she cracked up with shocked laughter. Hanging from the base of the cupboards was a homemade banner, emblazoned with the legend "Welcome back Sara," and tears came to her eyes as she looked around her.

"I don't believe you guys did this," she murmured, and Nick laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently before bending to kiss her cheek.

"Welcome home Sara," he said quietly in her ear, and she gritted her teeth, willing the tears not to fall.

"We wanted to do something to mark the occasion," Catherine told her. "We hope you don't mind."

"You like the sign?" Lindsey wanted to know, running over to Sara. "I made it!"

"You did?" Sara sounded very impressed, and Lindsey seemed to grow an extra inch or three at her reaction. "You made it all by yourself?"

"Mommy did the letters," Lindsey was forced to admit, her shoulders slumping a little. "But I did all the colouring."

"It's very pretty," Sara told her, hugging the child. She'd never been great with children, and she'd be the first to admit that, but she'd become very close to both Lindsey and Catherine over the last few months, and had come to adore the little girl. "I'm going to take it home with me and hang it somewhere where I can see it all the time."

"Cool!" Lindsey was all but jumping up and down, and Catherine flashed Sara a grateful grin.

"We also have cake," Grissom said, nodding his head in acknowledgement to Sara.

"So this is why you wanted to get me in here so early," Sara accused Nick, who was putting a party hat on his head.

"You didn't think it was for the overtime did you?" Nick asked.

"It crossed my mind," she admitted, looking around the room, meeting everyone's gaze. Just for the briefest of instants, her smile faltered, so briefly that each person present thought they'd only imagined it. It wasn't until they exchanged worried glances with the person nearest them that they realised that they hadn't. By that time, Sara had made her way over to the table and was eyeing the cake with interest. "Hmmm…chocolate…my favourite."

"I know," Catherine told her proudly, reaching for the paper plates. "Why do you think I chose it? Gris, you want to cut?"

"My pleasure." Grissom began slicing the cake neatly. "While I'm doing this, who's going to start with the presents?"

"I get presents?"

"Sure you do," Nick told her, a wicked glint in his eye. "This is from me." He lobbed a small box at her, and she caught it easily.

"You're giving me matches?" she asked him sceptically.

"Sure," he nodded. "To prop your eyes open now that you're not used to all those late nights anymore."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but her lips were curved up into a smile. "Thank you."

"This is from me," Greg announced, stepping towards her, a nervous grin on his face as he extended his offering to her.

His at least was brightly wrapped, huge globs of sticky tape holding it together. "Am I ok to open this in public?" she asked jokingly, looking pointedly at Lindsey, then at Greg, knowing well his sense of humour. Catherine was giving him a similar look and he nodded quickly, telling them both that it was an innocuous present. It took a couple of minutes for Sara to negotiate the tape, and she seriously considered asking for a scissors, but didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Finally, the gift fell apart in her lap, and she picked through the component parts. "Blue pens…red pens…paper clips…" She looked up curiously when she saw the final item. "Plasters?"

"Sure," he nodded, deadpan. "In case you get a paper cut from all the paper you'll be pushing." He ducked quickly as one of the red pens went sailing by his ear. "Is that any way to treat a present?"

"No comment." But she was still smiling when she said it, and he was sincere when he next spoke.

"It's good to have you back Sara. We've missed you around here."

There was a lump in Sara's throat, and it only grew when Catherine whispered, "Hear, hear."

"I'll drink to that," Grissom announced, and she looked at him, seeing that he'd poured several glasses of something fizzy into paper cups. "Strictly ginger ale," he clarified, seeing her questioning look.

"Of course," she grinned, shaking her head in amazement, looking around the room once more. "I can't believe you all did this."

"You said that already," Greg pointed out, but instead of rolling her eyes like she normally would have, she just forced a smile to her lips, a thin film of tears misting her vision.

"Well I meant it."

She accepted a paper cup from Grissom, looking down at the bubbles popping on the surface, grateful for the distraction. She didn't look up until Grissom spoke again, until the room narrowed as a crowd of people stood around her. "A toast then…welcome back Sara."

Everyone echoed the toast, paper cups being touched rim to rim, everyone's smiles becoming as watery as Sara's. They were so caught up in the moment that no-one noticed when the door opened, not until a new voice spoke.

"Am I missing something?"

Thanks to the tight knit circle around Sara, she was invisible, and they were occluding much of the sign as well. It wasn't until they stepped away almost as one that he was able to see either. The room fell silent, and all vestiges of laughter died away, an unmistakable blanket of tension settling around the group.

Sara turned slowly, nervously, looking up into Warrick's green eyes. She wasn't sure what she was going to see there; no more than anyone else was sure of how this moment was going to play out. There was no discernible change in Warrick's features, or his stance as he stared at her; he might have been carved from marble. It was Sara who reacted first, eyes dancing, warmth emanating from her smile. "Hey."

"Sara," he nodded.

Silence reigned, and Greg, being Greg, jumped in to fill it. "So, who's for cake?"

Everyone jumped in to clamour for their slice, and a vague sense of normalcy returned to the room. If anyone noticed that Warrick and Sara stayed at opposite ends of the room, if anyone noticed Warrick's studious avoidance of even looking at her, if anyone noticed the pained glances that Sara was shooting in his direction, and they all did, then no-one said anything.

The party lasted until Grissom looked at the clock, then cleared his throat apologetically. "Shift started ten minutes ago," he pointed out, a comment that was greeted predictably by a chorus of groans. "I know, I know," he said, holding up his hands, as if that would ward off any evil glances that would come his way. "Assignment slips will be handed out in my office in five minutes, Catherine, you can drop Lindsey off on the way to yours." He met Sara's eyes. "You'll be pleased to know that we've got some DNA samples for you to work on and match."

"Welcome to my world," Greg broke in, with a mock-evil cackle. "Don't worry Sara, I promise to be gentle with you."

Sara chuckled. "I think I can handle whatever you've got Sanders," she retorted, her intonation making Nick choke on his last mouthful of cake.

"You care to prove that?" Greg challenged, already moving towards the door.

"Any time," was Sara's ready response, following him with a grin on her face. "Later guys," she called back, concentrating on manoeuvring herself and her wheelchair to and through the door. Thus, she didn't notice everyone's eyes following her progress, including and especially one pair of green eyes that had avoided her up to now.


	2. Default Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to everyone who sent feedback on the first part of this...it really is just as nice as CSI on DVD! Much is revealed in this part, and I look forward to hearing what you think!

The mid-afternoon sun was high in the sky as Catherine straightened up from the dresser in the bedroom, having finally lifted the last print that she'd found on the crime scene. She stretched, arching her back, fighting back a groan as her aching muscles told her exactly how long she'd been crouching, and how long before that it had been since she'd had any sleep, or even any relaxation. She didn't even want to look in the mirror, afraid of the depth of dark shadows she no doubt had underneath her eyes, visible even through her make-up. It had been a long shift.

It had been a long few months.

"You about done?" The voice of her partner had her jumping and turning, giving him a quick smile as he frowned at her reaction.

"Just finished," she reported, popping her findings into her case, getting ready to leave. "Plenty of nice fingerprints for Sara to test."

The second the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to bite her tongue off. Warrick didn't say anything, just shrugged, but a man who gave definition to the word laconic wouldn't have reacted with words anyway. Catherine had long since trained herself to pick up the smaller signs with which to gauge his reaction, and from the slight widening, then shadowing of his eyes, and the way he instantly looked down and away and changed the subject, she'd known that she'd said the wrong thing.

"Many different sets?" he asked, eyeing the bedroom furnishings with interest, as if he could count them all right then and there.

"At least a dozen," Catherine said, and his lips pursed into a rueful grimace, probably wondering, as she had, where they'd all come from. "The mom said she was out of town last week…two teenaged kids in the house, what do you think the odds are that there was a party here?"

A snort of something that might have been amusement passed his lips, but otherwise, Warrick's face didn't change. "No bet here," he murmured.

"Got that right." Catherine picked up the bag and they began to make their way down the stairs. "Which means we've got to print all the kids' friends, if they give us anything at all, then try to see if there's any unaccounted for…" Sara was going to love them for this, she almost said, but she cut herself off just in time, instead going straight to the passenger door of the car, letting him drive them back to the lab in near silence.

"I'll get these to the lab," she told him, as they stood in the parking lot. "Then, I'm going to head home, catch some sleep, and start cooking something for Lindsey before I pick her up from school. What about you?"

Warrick glanced at his watch, rolling his eyes when he saw how much overtime they'd racked up already, all over what was supposed to be a simple breaking and entering that they'd caught right at the tail end of the shift. "Same," he said. "I'll drop the evidence off at the lab if you want to go straight home though."

"That'd be great Warrick. Thank you." Catherine smiled at him, pleased at his thoughtfulness, opening her mouth to say something else. Whatever it was though, was interrupted by the chirp of her cellphone. She gave Warrick an apologetic grin, holding up one hand as she answered it. "Hello? Yes, this is she…what? Is she ok? Yes, I'll be right there. Thank you."

When she hung up the phone, Warrick was looking at her, concern written all over his face. "Everything ok?"

"That was Lindsey's school," Catherine explained. "She's been sick, they need me to go pick her up…"

"Go." Warrick's voice was firm. "I was going to take the evidence in anyway, I'll tell Gris where you are, and that you might be late tonight."

He was reaching to take the bag from her shoulder, and she checked her watch, eyes widening as she realised what time it was, smacking her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Oh no…"

"What?" Warrick was still all concern, shouldering the evidence kit easily.

"I forgot, I can't go straight home, I said that I'd collect Sara…" She turned huge eyes up to him, begging, pleading. "Warrick, can you do it for me? Please? I wouldn't ask, but I've got to get to Lindsey…" She was already backing away from him, not taking no for an answer, not even when she saw his eyes widen, his mouth open. "Oh, Warrick, thanks so much…"

He was still trying to formulate a response when she turned her back and all but sprinted to her car without looking back. She backed out of her space quickly, driving away from the lab, stopping only when she was a couple of miles away, pulling in off the road, and dialling a number on her cell-phone. "It's me," she said when the person at the other end picked up.

"Did he go for it?" Grissom's voice was curious.

Catherine leaned back in her seat, allowing herself a satisfied chuckle. "Oh, he went for it all right. I think I missed my calling."

"You would have convinced me," he allowed, and Catherine could almost see his little smile, his raised eyebrow when he spoke.

"You took care of things at your end?" she asked, because it'd be just like Grissom to get distracted and forget.

"Between Nicky and myself, we managed to get the word around. If Warrick does try to palm this off on anyone, they're all going to have plans."

"Good."

There was a pause before Grissom spoke again, and when he did, his voice was doubtful. "Are you sure this is necessary Catherine? It's only been two weeks…"

She'd heard this from him before, and it didn't cut any ice with her this time either. "It's been two weeks since she came back to work Grissom. How long was it before that?" she pointed out.

"Yeah." The word was an un-Grissomlike sigh.

"Gris, they can't go on like this," she told him. "Sooner or later, something has to give."

Grissom's voice was quiet, and had her heart sinking like a rock. "That's what I'm afraid of."

 __

…two weeks ago…

Sara Sidle was laughing as she and Nick Stokes moved through the halls of the CSI lab. Not that they were moving too quickly; after all, they could only move a couple of feet at a time, for no sooner had one well-wisher departed than another one came up to take their place. Sara's cheeks were pink from embarrassment and sore from smiling at people, and she didn't miss the fact that Nick was taking much delight in her discomfort. "Shut up," she muttered when she caught his eye, and he just shook his head, giving her his best "Aw-shucks Ma'am" smile.

"It's like I keep telling you Sara," he told her. "Nothing improves your company like the lack of it. Bet you never realised you were so popular."

"You can sing that one," she muttered in reply, fixing a smile to her face as David Phillips walked by them, changing course when he caught a glimpse of Sara.

"You're back!" he beamed, looking from one to the other.

"Can't get anything by you guys, can I?" Sara quipped, her smile, fixed or not, taking any sting out of her words.

"She's just cranky because she'd rather be at home watching crappy chat shows," Nick deadpanned, nodding conspiratorially at David.

"I would not," Sara protested, reaching over to smack him, a move that Nick dodged easily. She settled for narrowing her eyes and mock glaring at him, which only served to increase his mirth. She turned back to David, rolling her eyes. "You seen Grissom?"

David nodded. "Break room," was all he said, moving past them. "I'll see you later?"

"Sure, I'll be around," Sara replied, moving off in the direction of the break room, pausing when she realised that Nick was chuckling to himself. "What?"

"Just wondering if David is counting that as a date," he replied, and she opened her mouth, then thought better of replying, which of course, only gave Nick more impetus to tease her. "I mean, come on…the guy's got a serious thing for you. He practically pined the whole time you were out…"

Sara shook her head, sighing, good mood suddenly dissipating like mist. "Nice to know someone missed me," she muttered, and a shadow flitted across Nick's face.

"Sara-" he began, but she cut him off, moving away from him.

"Let's find Grissom. Get this shift started."

Well aware of how immovable Sara could be when she had her mind made up against something, Nick had no choice but to follow her to the break room where, ever the gentleman, he held open the door for her, entering behind her.

She'd no sooner entered the room than a chorus of Kool and the Gang's _Celebration_ began to blare, and her eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight before her. Greg Sanders beside a boom box in a loud multi-coloured shirt wasn't unusual, but the party hat on his head certainly was a new addition. Beside him, Catherine stood, similarly hatted, with Lindsey, streamers around her neck, dancing to the music beside her. But the sight of her boss, Gil Grissom, with both hat on head and streamers around his neck, was one that she'd never forget, and she cracked up with shocked laughter. Hanging from the base of the cupboards was a homemade banner, emblazoned with the legend "Welcome back Sara," and tears came to her eyes as she looked around her.

"I don't believe you guys did this," she murmured, and Nick laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently before bending to kiss her cheek.

"Welcome home Sara," he said quietly in her ear, and she gritted her teeth, willing the tears not to fall.

"We wanted to do something to mark the occasion," Catherine told her. "We hope you don't mind."

"You like the sign?" Lindsey wanted to know, running over to Sara. "I made it!"

"You did?" Sara sounded very impressed, and Lindsey seemed to grow an extra inch or three at her reaction. "You made it all by yourself?"

"Mommy did the letters," Lindsey was forced to admit, her shoulders slumping a little. "But I did all the colouring."

"It's very pretty," Sara told her, hugging the child. She'd never been great with children, and she'd be the first to admit that, but she'd become very close to both Lindsey and Catherine over the last few months, and had come to adore the little girl. "I'm going to take it home with me and hang it somewhere where I can see it all the time."

"Cool!" Lindsey was all but jumping up and down, and Catherine flashed Sara a grateful grin.

"We also have cake," Grissom said, nodding his head in acknowledgement to Sara.

"So this is why you wanted to get me in here so early," Sara accused Nick, who was putting a party hat on his head.

"You didn't think it was for the overtime did you?" Nick asked.

"It crossed my mind," she admitted, looking around the room, meeting everyone's gaze. Just for the briefest of instants, her smile faltered, so briefly that each person present thought they'd only imagined it. It wasn't until they exchanged worried glances with the person nearest them that they realised that they hadn't. By that time, Sara had made her way over to the table and was eyeing the cake with interest. "Hmmm…chocolate…my favourite."

"I know," Catherine told her proudly, reaching for the paper plates. "Why do you think I chose it? Gris, you want to cut?"

"My pleasure." Grissom began slicing the cake neatly. "While I'm doing this, who's going to start with the presents?"

"I get presents?"

"Sure you do," Nick told her, a wicked glint in his eye. "This is from me." He lobbed a small box at her, and she caught it easily.

"You're giving me matches?" she asked him sceptically.

"Sure," he nodded. "To prop your eyes open now that you're not used to all those late nights anymore."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but her lips were curved up into a smile. "Thank you."

"This is from me," Greg announced, stepping towards her, a nervous grin on his face as he extended his offering to her.

His at least was brightly wrapped, huge globs of sticky tape holding it together. "Am I ok to open this in public?" she asked jokingly, looking pointedly at Lindsey, then at Greg, knowing well his sense of humour. Catherine was giving him a similar look and he nodded quickly, telling them both that it was an innocuous present. It took a couple of minutes for Sara to negotiate the tape, and she seriously considered asking for a scissors, but didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Finally, the gift fell apart in her lap, and she picked through the component parts. "Blue pens…red pens…paper clips…" She looked up curiously when she saw the final item. "Plasters?"

"Sure," he nodded, deadpan. "In case you get a paper cut from all the paper you'll be pushing." He ducked quickly as one of the red pens went sailing by his ear. "Is that any way to treat a present?"

"No comment." But she was still smiling when she said it, and he was sincere when he next spoke.

"It's good to have you back Sara. We've missed you around here."

There was a lump in Sara's throat, and it only grew when Catherine whispered, "Hear, hear."

"I'll drink to that," Grissom announced, and she looked at him, seeing that he'd poured several glasses of something fizzy into paper cups. "Strictly ginger ale," he clarified, seeing her questioning look.

"Of course," she grinned, shaking her head in amazement, looking around the room once more. "I can't believe you all did this."

"You said that already," Greg pointed out, but instead of rolling her eyes like she normally would have, she just forced a smile to her lips, a thin film of tears misting her vision.

"Well I meant it."

She accepted a paper cup from Grissom, looking down at the bubbles popping on the surface, grateful for the distraction. She didn't look up until Grissom spoke again, until the room narrowed as a crowd of people stood around her. "A toast then…welcome back Sara."

Everyone echoed the toast, paper cups being touched rim to rim, everyone's smiles becoming as watery as Sara's. They were so caught up in the moment that no-one noticed when the door opened, not until a new voice spoke.

"Am I missing something?"

Thanks to the tight knit circle around Sara, she was invisible, and they were occluding much of the sign as well. It wasn't until they stepped away almost as one that he was able to see either. The room fell silent, and all vestiges of laughter died away, an unmistakable blanket of tension settling around the group.

Sara turned slowly, nervously, looking up into Warrick's green eyes. She wasn't sure what she was going to see there; no more than anyone else was sure of how this moment was going to play out. There was no discernible change in Warrick's features, or his stance as he stared at her; he might have been carved from marble. It was Sara who reacted first, eyes dancing, warmth emanating from her smile. "Hey."

"Sara," he nodded.

Silence reigned, and Greg, being Greg, jumped in to fill it. "So, who's for cake?"

Everyone jumped in to clamour for their slice, and a vague sense of normalcy returned to the room. If anyone noticed that Warrick and Sara stayed at opposite ends of the room, if anyone noticed Warrick's studious avoidance of even looking at her, if anyone noticed the pained glances that Sara was shooting in his direction, and they all did, then no-one said anything.

The party lasted until Grissom looked at the clock, then cleared his throat apologetically. "Shift started ten minutes ago," he pointed out, a comment that was greeted predictably by a chorus of groans. "I know, I know," he said, holding up his hands, as if that would ward off any evil glances that would come his way. "Assignment slips will be handed out in my office in five minutes, Catherine, you can drop Lindsey off on the way to yours." He met Sara's eyes. "You'll be pleased to know that we've got some DNA samples for you to work on and match."

"Welcome to my world," Greg broke in, with a mock-evil cackle. "Don't worry Sara, I promise to be gentle with you."

Sara chuckled. "I think I can handle whatever you've got Sanders," she retorted, her intonation making Nick choke on his last mouthful of cake.

"You care to prove that?" Greg challenged, already moving towards the door.

"Any time," was Sara's ready response, following him with a grin on her face. "Later guys," she called back, concentrating on manoeuvring herself and her wheelchair to and through the door. Thus, she didn't notice everyone's eyes following her progress, including and especially one pair of green eyes that had avoided her up to now.


	3. The Longest Journey Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final part.. thanks for all the feedback! Notes and disclaimers in part one

Final part.. thanks for all the feedback! Notes and disclaimers in part one

The Longest Journey Part Three

The ringing of her phone broke through a dreamless sleep, and Sara pried her eyes open with difficulty, staying still at first as she tried to figure out from which direction the ringing was coming. Once she realised that it was on the table at the opposite side of the couch, she stretched out a hand to get it, bracing herself with her other arm. It was only when her pillow grunted in surprise that she realised that Warrick was still there, and she bit her lip, looking up at him, his eyes still closed, but his brow furrowed. Somewhere in the night, he'd slipped to one side, and was now half-lying across the couch, and he'd managed to bring her with him, so that she was lying more or less on top of him. She supposed that she should be embarrassed about that, flustered by their close physical proximity, but in truth, she was far from it, instead choosing to savour it. This was the closest they'd been in weeks, ever since the accident.

She couldn't remember much about it; in fact, her memory stopped just after Grissom gave the two of them the assignment sheet, somewhere around the two of them on the way to the cars, quibbling over who was going to drive. The next thing she knew, she was waking up in hospital, machines and tubes in every direction, too doped up on painkillers to know what much of what was going on, but she'd known that things were serious when Grissom had told her not to worry, that her parents were on their way.

The blanks had been filled in for her, although not nearly fast enough for her liking. It was Nick who'd told her what had happened, pieced together from what Warrick and other eyewitnesses had told him. She'd tried to remember it, but couldn't, and the doctors had told her that that was normal. Sometimes, she'd wake up in the night, having dreamt of falling and flying and of a familiar voice calling her name, but that was it, and those dreams were her secret.

The one blank that Nick hadn't been able to fill in was where Warrick was, why he'd never come to see her. Nick had had his theories, as had Catherine, and both had told her that they'd tried to convince him to come, but Sara knew how stubborn he could be when he had his mind set on something, knew that if he hadn't come in the first week, he wouldn't come at all.

That first night that she woke up and saw him there, she really did think that she was dreaming. But then she realised that if she were dreaming about him, he'd be talking to her, laughing with her, sitting beside her bed, holding her hand. He wouldn't be all the way over there, his head in his hands, the very picture of dejection and loss. Some instinct had told her to close her eyes, just to lie there, and that's what she'd done. When she'd heard him move, she'd had to fight not to hold her breath, and when she felt his feather light touch on the back of her hand, it was all she'd been able to do not to sob out loud. She'd stayed awake the next night, listening for him, only surrendering to sleep when she'd heard the door open, heard the footsteps cross the room.

She'd thought that maybe when she got out of the hospital that he might visit her then. But she'd moved from the hospital to a rehab centre, staying there for a shorter term than the doctors had planned, stubbornly insisting that she was fine, that she wanted to be at home. It was only when she'd got home that she realised how much adapting she still had to do, though not for the fault of her fellow CSIs. They'd done a huge amount of work in adapting her apartment, rearranging furniture and cupboards, doing all they could to make her life easier. Nick had been a regular fixture on her couch, and Catherine and Lindsey were just as frequent visitors to her guestroom, with Grissom and Greg taking it in turns to bring the takeout.

But not Warrick. Never Warrick.

She'd stopped asking after the first few weeks in the hospital, but once she was home, she missed his nocturnal visits, his quiet presence. The others didn't mention him either, the proverbial elephant in the middle of the room, culminating in that awkward silence in the break room her first day back at work. Funnily enough though, she was the only one who didn't seem to mind it. She hadn't seen him in so long, hadn't spoken to him in even longer, so she didn't have a clue what to say except to greet him, and to hear her name from his lips was enough for her right then.

She'd spent the last two weeks in the CSI lab though, getting back to normal, or as close as she could get to it, seeing him walking around, talking to other people, but practically running in the other direction when she came along, and she had to admit, she'd been getting tired of it. Especially since she'd known in the time she'd been away from work that she'd missed spending time with Warrick. She just hasn't realised how much, hadn't let herself think about how much.

The conversation last night had confirmed her theory, that it was guilt that had been keeping him away, and the fact that he'd come in with her had given her cause to hope that they were getting back on the right path again. Waking up with him like this was certainly an indicator of good progress, and as the phone continued to ring, shattering the fragile silence, she mentally cursed whoever was calling her, interrupting their peace, gritting her teeth as she stretched for the table. She was startled when his hand moved, reaching out for the phone, locating it without opening his eyes, and handing it to her, again with an unintelligible grunt. Sara fought back a smile as she pressed the answer button, resting her head against Warrick's chest again. "Hello?" she murmured, still sleepy.

"Sara?" Catherine's voice was alert, and more than a little concerned. "You ok?"

"I'm fine Cath," Sara replied quickly, knowing that any other response would have either Catherine, Nick or Grissom descending on her place in short order. "I was just sleeping."

"Oh, I'm sorry…you want me to call you back?"

"Don't be silly, it's fine…hey, how's Lindsey?"

"Lindsey?" Catherine sounded confused for a moment, and Sara frowned, but then her friend continued, "Oh, she's fine. Probably just a twenty-four hour thing, you know how kids are. She took a nap on the couch, it did her the world of good."

Her eyes on Warrick, who looked for all the world as if he'd fallen back to sleep, Sara couldn't help but smile. "I know what you mean."

"You got home from the hospital ok then?" Catherine continued. "I mean…Warrick…"

"Yeah, he picked me up," Sara confirmed, a vague suspicion beginning to form at the back of her mind, a suspicion that took firmer root with Catherine's next question.

"Everything ok between you two?"

She sounded almost afraid of the answer, and Sara grinned, shaking her head. "Fine Catherine," she replied simply, keeping any trace of amusement out of her voice, wondering how long she could make Catherine twist in the wind for before she gave her the details.

"Yeah?" Sara could practically hear the look of scepticism on her friend's face, see the wide eyes, the lifted brows.

"Yeah," she smiled, and Warrick's eyelids opened a crack, sleepy green amusement in an otherwise impassive face.

"OK then; I was just calling to check on you. And to see if you want me to pick you up later for the shift."

"No, it's fine." Grateful as she was for the personal chauffeur service that Catherine and the other CSIs had been providing, the words slipped out of Sara's mouth before she even thought about it. "Warrick said he'd bring me in."

"Really?" There were at least seven extra syllables in there as Catherine drew the word out, and a blush appeared on Sara's face.

"Goodbye Catherine."

There was a chuckle at the other end of the line. "Later Sara."

When she hung up the phone, Sara was chuckling quietly to herself, while Warrick's eyes were open, dancing with laughter. She hadn't seen him look this way at her in too long, and she relished the normalcy of it. She propped herself up on one arm, tossing the phone onto the coffee table before folding her arms and laying them on his chest, her chin resting on top of them, returning his sleepy grin. "Volunteering my services without asking me?" he teased, one arm reaching up to brush her hair back.

She shrugged as best she could in her position. "The others have been doing it for weeks… you've got some catching up to do."

She'd been teasing, but he sighed, guilt replacing amusement in his eyes. "I know." His voice was heavy and she shook her head vehemently.

"Don't Warrick, I mean it. You can't think like that. And I won't let you."

"I should have been there Sara. And I don't just mean that night."

She sighed, resting her head on his chest. "You're here now," she pointed out. "That's all that matters."

"Yeah." He didn't sound like he believed her, but that was ok. He'd been carrying around that guilt for months; and that much angst couldn't evaporate in a matter of hours. She'd get through to him, she knew that; after all, she had plenty of time. His head tilted to one side suddenly, and the corner of his lips turned up slightly. "You looked good in that physio room today."

Sara could feel her face light up in accomplishment. "First steps," she told him proudly, and he moved his head back so that he could look down at her.

"Hey!" He sounded as if he was proud of her too, teeth flashing white against his skin when he smiled. "Congratulations!"

"I'll be back in the field in no time," she told him, pushing herself up to a sitting position, her muscles creaking in protest, but she didn't let it show.

"I can't wait." His voice was low, but she heard him anyway, and grinned over at him. "Hey," he said then. "You want to get dinner before the shift? Can't have them thinking that I don't take good care of you."

She arched one eyebrow. "You buying?"

He stood up, stretching his arms in the air, body stiff from lying on the couch with her on top of him. "I think I can stretch to that." He checked his watch. "Pick you up back here in an hour?"

She nodded, getting herself into her chair once more. "I'll see you then."

"They're late."

Nick's jaw was clenched tight, his lips pressed together in a thin line as he looked at the clock for the ninth time in five minutes. He tossed an apple from one hand to the other restlessly as he paced the room, only stopping when Grissom grabbed it in mid-toss as Nick passed by his chair.

"Hey, White Rabbit," he said calmly. "Relax. They'll be here."

"He's right Nicky," Catherine said, outwardly as calm as Grissom, although inwardly there was a niggling doubt in the back of her mind. Hopefully, Sara hadn't been shining her on when she'd called her earlier, and the Lord knew, if Warrick had done anything to upset Sara, she was going to kill him with her bare hands.

"When have you _ever_ known Sara to be late for a shift?" Nick asked, looking her dead in the eye. "Or Warrick?" He took a step in one direction, then pivoted in the other. "Cath, if this plan of yours backfired…"

"Look, I talked to Sara earlier on. She said that they were fine. That Warrick was picking her up for the shift, and that she'd see me then." She heard the lack of conviction in her own voice, and from the look of disgust on his face, so did Nick.

He looked as if he was going to say something else, but was silenced by Grissom holding up a hand for silence, his eyes fixed on the door. Catherine and Nick followed his gaze, to see a relaxed Warrick holding open the door for a laughing Sara. Catherine felt a smile come to her face, matched by the one on Nick's, while Grissom remained his usual implacable self. "Hey guys," Sara greeted them, looking from one to the other. "What's up?"

"Sorry we're late," Warrick supplied. "Traffic was a nightmare."

Sara snorted. "We'd have been on time if someone hadn't insisted on not leaving without his fortune cookie," she said, sending a pointed glare in his direction. Her eyes danced with laughter though, as she continued, "And then didn't even open it…"

"Since someone thought I should be watching the road…" Warrick countered, dropping into a seat, long legs sprawled out in front of him. "Hand it over," he commanded, holding out a hand.

Rolling her eyes at Catherine, receiving a questioning glance that had her blushing, Sara tossed him the fortune cookie. "Well, don't keep us in suspense," she ordered when she saw his eyes widen as he read.

" _The longest journey begins with a single step_ ," he said, not looking at the paper, just at her, and a grin broke across Sara's face. "Appropriate."

"Appropriate?" Catherine asked, looking from one to the other.

Warrick waved a hand, indicating that she should tell the news, and Sara did. "Yeah. I took my first steps at physio today."

"Sara!" Catherine stepped forward to hug her, and Nick beamed at her from across the room. Even Grissom cracked a smile.

"I'm glad for you Sara," he said, handing an assignment slip to Warrick even as he spoke. "And Warrick, your first step is to a house downtown, shots fired during a robbery; the guy escaped, but left a trail of blood behind."

"Another B&E?" Warrick rolled his eyes.

"You and Catherine," Grissom nodded, not willing to entertain any complaints. "Sara, you'll be running prints on last night's B&E."

Sara nodded, while Catherine snickered. "Have fun Sara."

"Nick, you're with me. Teenager found unconscious in a high school football field."

"Alcohol poisoning anyone?" Nick muttered, holding his hands up when it looked as if Grissom was going to lecture him on the perils of reaching a conclusion before examining the evidence. "I know, I know…never assume."

Grissom nodded in acknowledgement before looking around at the group. "Let's get going." He didn't linger, already on his way out the door before his last syllable had finished forming. Nick at least threw a wave at them before following him out, knowing well that Grissom might well leave him behind if he weren't fast enough for him.

Catherine, Warrick and Sara exchanged grins, and it was Catherine who spoke first. "We should get a move on too…the sooner we start…"

"I hear that," Warrick muttered, standing up. "I'll see you later?" he continued, looking at Sara, and Catherine had to turn her head quickly to hide her smile, especially when she heard Sara's response.

"Yeah…I'll buy breakfast."

Warrick chuckled softly. "You got that right." He glanced at Catherine. "Ready?"

She glanced from him to Sara. "I'll meet you at the car," she told him, and a ghost of a smile crossed his face, broadening for a second when his eyes met Sara's, before he left. Catherine, meanwhile, crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at Sara, one eyebrow arched. "Anything you want to tell me Sara?"

Sara's pale cheeks flushed. "Nope," she replied, but her eyes told a different story, and Catherine threw her head back and laughed.

"I'm not saying a thing," she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. She heard Sara laughing softly behind her as she walked to the door, embarrassed, but happy, and then something occurred to Catherine, and she turned back, looking at her friend. "Hey, Sara… what did your fortune say?"

Sara frowned. "I never opened it. Hang on there…" She opened the cookie, unfolding the paper, reading it out loud. " _All will be as it should be_." Her eyes flicked over it once, then twice more, and she smiled. "Sounds good to me."

There were tears in her eyes when she looked up at Catherine, and Catherine had to swallow hard against the lump in her own throat. "Me too," she whispered, and their eyes met and held for a long moment. Then Catherine shook herself. "Come on," she ordered, the senior CSI once more. "Let's get to work."

"My pleasure." Sara pushed off and Catherine held the door open, and laughing, the two of them moved side by side through the corridors of the CSI lab, feeling, for the first time in months, like things were finally getting back to normal.

end


End file.
